


Gift of the Alebrije

by BabyCharmander



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: (not sure if it's more one or the other), Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28455555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyCharmander/pseuds/BabyCharmander
Summary: It's Héctor's first Christmas Eve since his parents were forgotten. Though he tries to make the best of it, it's hard to ignore how much he misses both his parents and living family... and even harder when his alebrije seems to be absent as well.But little does he know that the alebrije has a very good reason for not immediately celebrating the holiday with him...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Gift of the Alebrije

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hobbyartist01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbyartist01/gifts).



> MERRY (LATE) CHRISTMAS! This is my Secret Santa gift for Hobbyartist! 
> 
> This fic takes place between chapters three and four of my fic, [Leatherwing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447578/chapters/43702967)! But if you haven't read that, here's some context: Héctor spent some time in his afterlife with his parents... until they were forgotten. But shortly after that, he met his alebrije, a little bat/armadillo creature named Pizzicato. This takes place the same year his parents were forgotten, and his first year with his alebrije.
> 
> Huge thank you to Jaywings and RenGP for beta-reading for me (the latter of which checked for cultural accuracy too)! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"I'm here!" Héctor called, stumbling into the apartment with a few baskets in his arms. "I've got it, don't worry!" Kicking the door shut behind him, he scrambled into the kitchen and crammed one of the baskets into a corner, covering it up with a few rags and kicking the garbage can in front of it. Immediately he spun around, glancing around anxiously, then heaved a sigh of relief when he didn't spot his bat _alebrije_ in the room. Good—she hadn't seen.

"Busy out there," he said, casually setting his other basket down on the kitchen table and picking out a few items: a nice new candle, as well as a fancy paper poinsettia—they didn't have the real things here, of course, but it looked pretty enough. He set the plant in the living room, away from any candles. "Heh, I guess people are still doing _las posadas_ even here, with their..."

He swallowed, the memory of little skeleton children hurrying down the street rapidly being replaced by that of his living daughter as she followed other children around the streets of Santa Cecilia. Even now he could still hear her own energetic singing, as she stumbled over the lyrics she was still learning.

Shaking his head, he searched the room for a match, finally finding one to light the new candle with, as well as a few others around the house. Their light warmed up the little apartment, and he felt warm, too, watching the way the shadows danced across the hand-carved nativity set, the poinsettia, and the other decorations he'd set out. "Lots of kids running around... it reminded me of home."

Héctor stared down into the flickering flame of the new candle, trying to force himself to keep his mind in the present. _This_ was his home. It _had_ been for several years now. No, Coco and Imelda and Ernesto weren't here, but... they were thinking about him, surely. Even though they had yet to put up his photo, surely this _Nochebuena_ they were thinking about him.

_Even though they seemed to forget—_

It hit him like a train, and he covered his eyes, his throat straining as he held back tears. No, he was _not_ going to cry on _Nochebuena_. Yes, everything was different now, and he wouldn't be celebrating with his parents this year, but he was going to enjoy himself, somehow. It's what they would have wanted.

Swallowing again, he hurried back into the kitchen, taking a few other items out of the basket: a small bag of candies and chocolates, and some carefully-wrapped tamales. They were still warm. "I, um, got some dinner," he went on. "Was never good with making tamales. My _papá_ always did that. Imelda too. She... she always made the best—" He was doing it again.

Again he shook himself, glancing back into the living room and forcing a grin. "This is for _me_ , though," he said, with deliberate loudness. "It's a _shame_ I couldn't find you any..."

He paused.

Stepping back into the living room, he looked around, suddenly realizing he hadn't seen Pizzicato since he'd returned.

"Pizzicato?" he called, searching through the candle-lit apartment, hoping to find a midnight blue bat dancing among the shadows. But nothing was there, though his window remained open, letting in the chilly air.

It wasn't _unusual_ for her to not be around—she did stick with him a lot of the time, but there were times she would fly off on her own. Likely to eat, he imagined. Though... she'd been there for him shortly after his father passed, and on his first _Dia de Muertos_ without his parents, and on his death day...

Yet here he was, alone on Christmas Eve.

Swallowing back a tightness in his throat, he stepped up to the open window, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the December air.

Where could she be?

* * *

She was surely breaking a few rules, to begin with.

Not that Pizzicato was entirely familiar with _alebrije_ rules and conduct, still being somewhat new to the profession herself. Her first several months had been a great deal of guesswork and instinct, and... it... it was still that. And so far it had been... going.

A shudder rippled down her segmented shell as she drew closer to the veil. She wasn't quite sure _why_ , since it wasn't like this was the first time she'd done it before. She'd crossed it many times now in order to hunt, since hunting was not exactly a thing on this side of the veil, and her pup—her charge, Héctor—was only marginally successful at retrieving food.

That included retrieving food for himself.

Oh, she hoped this would work.

Shutting her eyes, she prepared herself for the jarring sensation of her body rapidly changing shape. In a few moments, she was suddenly half her size, and her protective shell was gone. But she could fly all the same, and so she did, flitting over the streets of her pup's home.

Normally nighttime was peaceful here, but now it was full of singing and chatter that interfered with her radar, making it harder to sense the delicate wing-beats of insects. There were many lanterns lit within the human-roosts below, bringing an unnatural brightness to the place. It was not unlike the other side of the veil in that respect, but here, her radar and sight were not nearly so good.

Swiveling her ears as she flew, she spotted a moth hovering toward one of the windows of a nearby roost, and snapped it up before it could hide away inside. The humans made these roosts unsafe to enter, or sometimes even to draw near.

Well... mostly unsafe.

Angling her flight to move farther into town, she spotted one roost in particular—that of her pup's colony. There was a great warmth within it, with many voices talking, and here she found the light and noise did not bother her so much. Swooping down into the territory, she spotted a bowl full of sweet liquid set upon a bench, and gratefully landed next to it, lapping it up with her long tongue.

"Oh, there's another one. See it there?"

She did not have to look up into the roost to know who was talking.

"Uh... _sí_ , I see it."

 _That_ one was a voice Pizzicato was less familiar with, but she got the feeling she would be hearing it a lot more often if she kept up with these visits.

"Why do you want to attract... these things, anyway?"

Héctor's pup (who was, Pizzicato knew, of course not exactly a _pup_ anymore) was quiet for a moment. "They remind me of dancing, the way they fly through the air," she said at last, and her voice grew quieter. "And... they remind me of someone else."

For a moment, Pizzicato's wings felt heavy, but she lifted them anyway, hopping back into the air and spreading them wide. She took a few skillful swoops through the air, eliciting a gasp of delight from the pup, and was about to leave the territory when something came flying at her.

Darting out of the way, she could see another animal landing on the ground before looking up at her: a house cat.

[You don't belong here,] the cat said plainly, flicking her tail.

" _PEPITA!_ " the pup called. "Get back here!"

[I belong here more than you will ever know, ground-runner,] Pizzicato spat.

[Is that so?] Never turning her gaze away, Pepita began to lick her paw. [Why should you intrude upon my territory, then?]

[I have reasons.] Without another word, Pizzicato turned to leave, flitting away from her pup's territory, the heaviness of her wings making her fly closer to the earth than she normally would.

To her annoyance, the soft footfalls of the cat followed behind her. [Tell me these reasons.]

[They are not your concern, _gata_!] Pizzicato squeaked, swirling around to face her. The cat was still staring at her impassively. [You still walk this land and have yet to cross the veil!]

She had expected the cat to merely keep staring, but instead her slit pupils widened. [ _Spirit creature,_ ] she purred. [If you speak true, then you are welcome here. Possibly. But if not...] She bowed herself forward, stretching out her paws before her and unsheathing her claws.

Pizzicato hovered there, contemplating the cat. [Would you... help me?]

Blinking slowly, Pepita sat upright again. [How?]

[I must... find something for my charge.]

[ _¿Sí?_ And who is your charge?]

Pizzicato hesitated. This cat must belong to her pup's colony... and she must know the reason the colony was avoiding him. If this was true, if she told her exactly _who_ her charge was, there was a chance the cat would not want to help.

[He is...] Her ears flicked, and she momentarily dipped in her hover. [A member of a nearby colony. A _familia_.]

The cat stared at her, her tail flicking. [I see.] And finally she stood, stretching her legs. [I will help you, if you will not bother my _familia_.]

Her wings felt heavier. [ _B-bien_. I will not bother them.]

[Tell me, _murciélago,_ what you wish to find.]

* * *

The item had been a hassle to obtain, and even more of a pain to carry. Pizzicato could not do it herself in her current form, so Pepita had stayed with her, carrying it in her mouth as they traveled toward the veil. [You seem... protective of your _familia_ ,] Pizzicato commented.

[Indeed.] Pepita did not look at her as she walked. [I came to them because they fed me, but I stayed because they were hurting. I love them, and wish to ease their pain.]

The thought of her pup's colony being in pain left her with a great ache within. [Why are they hurting?]

[There is a deep pain within them that causes my Imelda to weep into my fur, and her kitten to stay up long into the night.] Her gaze hardened. [My Imelda's mate left her many years ago. Their kitten falsely believes he will return... and my Imelda tries to _forget_ him.]

Pizzicato dropped in her flight, but caught herself before she hit the ground, flitting back into the air. An invisible weight threatened to pull her down again.

[ _¿Murciélago?_ ]

[I-I am fine, _gata_ ,] Pizzicato stammered. [We are at the veil.]

The two stood and flew respectively where the dead lay buried, where an unseen veil stood between the worlds. Pepita lowered her head, dropping the item to the ground, and Pizzicato struggled to lift it in her feet.

Pepita's yellow eyes seemed brighter here, as she stared at the spot unseen by humans, but which spirits and animals were more sensitive to. [Are you able to go further?]

[ _Sí._ My spirit form will grant me strength.]

[Then I wish you luck with your charge.]

[And you with your _familia_.]

With that, the two animals parted ways, Pepita returning to her colony, and Pizzicato yanking her prize through the veil. While her larger wings and body did give her strength, she still felt as though a sense of mourning would pull her into the depths of oblivion below.

But she could not focus on that now. It was _Nochebuena,_ and her pup was waiting for her.

* * *

The candles had been burning for an hour or so now, and Héctor's food sat nearly-untouched on the table—one tamale with only a few bites taken, and another still wrapped. He felt less hungry than he'd expected, and the food from the market was not comparable to what could be eaten in the living world... or even to what his parents used to prepare here.

With a strange mix of reverence and numbness, he placed the wooden carving of Baby Jesus, sleeping in a manger, in the center of the Nativity scene. The whole set was quite lovely all together, but it didn't feel the same without his mother or father there to appreciate it with him, or without Imelda and Coco.

He bit into one of the chocolates he'd purchased, finding it bitter. Whether it was the food itself or the way he felt, he wasn't sure, and he sank down into the couch, closing his eyes and wishing the night were over.

Until something fluttered noisily into the apartment.

Héctor opened his eyes, startled by the flickering lights and shadows from the candle flames, and was able to spot a familiar creature zipping into the room. " _Pizzicato_?" he breathed, happy at first until his chest tightened, and his lips pulled back into a snarl. "Where have you _been_?! I thought I would be _alone_ here, on _Nochebuena_ , and you—"

Something smacked him in the face.

Flailing, Héctor nearly knocked over a candle, which Pizzicato frantically put out with a few strong wing-beats. He sat upright, grabbing the object that had struck him and holding it out in front of him, confused to find a... paper bag. " _¿Qué...?_ " he muttered, opening it, only to be immediately struck with a familiar spicy scent. "This is...?!"

Pizzicato fluttered in front of his face, her expression seeming hopeful.

" _Chapulines?!_ " he cried, reaching into the bag and pulling out a few of the fried crickets. "Th-this is... for me?"

_Peep!_

" _G-gracias..._ " Héctor tossed two of them into his mouth, his mind instantly yanking him back to Santa Cecilia, during the times when Imelda and Ernesto and his parents had surprised him with them on a number of occasions. Before he realized it, he felt tears trickling down his cheekbones, and gave a quiet laugh, scrubbing at his face. "Ah, I said I wouldn't cry on _Nochebuena_..."

Pizzicato fluttered closer to him, licking his face, and he laughed again, shoving her aside.

" _¡Basta!_ " he said, rising from his seat and hurrying in the kitchen. He tried to put on a serious demeanor, struggling to hide his smile. "What a shame you got something for me, heh, and I don't have anything for you." He set the bag upon the table, raising a brow at the _alebrije_ that fluttered in front of him.

She only cocked her head, looking at him in confusion.

Unable to keep up the act, Héctor broke into a grin, hurrying to the corner of the kitchen where he'd covered up the second basket he'd come home with. "Bah, I can't keep it from you. Here!" Uncovering the basket and lifting it up, he presented it to the _alebrije_. " _¡Feliz Nochebuena!_ "

Within the basket was a small collection of fresh fruit: a few apples, a couple bananas, and an orange.

Immediately Pizzicato let out a piercing but happy _squeak_ , looping through the air and coming to a rest atop Héctor's head. In response, he peeled one of the bananas, holding it up and laughing as she eagerly bit into it. Finding his own appetite starting to return, Héctor grabbed a few more _chapulines_ for himself.

A short while later, Héctor closed the window and sat within the living room once more, surrounded by candlelight and Christmas decorations. The scene, which had felt so cold and lonely not long ago, now felt warm and comforting again, particularly now that he had a friendly bat nestled against his shoulder. Even so, it did not fully rid the ache in his chest.

"I... I still miss them," he muttered, his thoughts trailing from the scene for just a moment. Pizzicato looked up in concern, but he smiled at her. "But I know... it'll be different, someday. Until then, I'm glad to still have you," he went on, and gently stroked her armadillo-like shell. " _Feliz Nochebuena,_ Pizzicato."

The bat gave a soft _peep_ , not quite as energetically as earlier, licking his face before settling against his shoulder again.

It wasn't the same as spending the holiday with his family... but it was good enough for now.

Because one day, far in the future, he would see them again.


End file.
